


Emotions Are Best Kept Deep Down Inside Where No One Can Hurt Them

by Stotch



Category: South Park
Genre: F/M, High School, Implied Stan Marsh/Wendy Testaburger - Freeform, Jealousy, M/M, Misunderstandings, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV First Person, Pining, Secret Admirer, Secret Crush, bottling up emotions, kenny's POV, mentions of Kyman
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:33:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21553927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stotch/pseuds/Stotch
Summary: Kenny McCormick has a notebook.This isn't just any old notebook, no. This notebook holds Kenny's big secret: he has a HUGE crush on Butters.Kenny vows to never have his notebook fall into the hands of his crush. In fact, Kenny has sworn to himself that he will never tell Butters about his feelings for him.But love doesn't follow a plan.
Relationships: Kenny McCormick/Leopold "Butters" Stotch
Comments: 12
Kudos: 46





	1. Inadvertent Crisis

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work ever and first time writing fanfiction, so please let me know what you think! Also, forgive me as I don't have a beta reader yet if there are any mistakes.

I, Kenneth McCormick, admittedly, have a huge ass crush on Leopold Stotch.

It all started freshman year, these strong feelings started to consume me. Feelings that I couldn’t just push under my bed and forget about completely. Nonetheless, I still attempted to roll with life’s punches like I always do. My attempts have been in vain. I can’t focus on much when Butters is around. Every time I see him I get this funny feeling in my stomach. To make matters worse, the feeling only got more irking and persistent as highschool dragged on.

As a senior, this year, I have come to terms with my crush on Butters. Who knew that I, the loner kid, was actually capable of wanting a relationship. A relationship that isn’t purely sexual, for once. One that I want to keep and hold on to for as long as I can. Butters is my friend, which is great because I get to see him often. But thanks to my severe lack of conversation skills, I have not attempted to reveal my feelings to Butters. Also shoutout to my nonexistent self-esteem that decides to suffocate every lick of confidence I possess whenever I attempt to talk with Butters in a private setting. It’s like I’m actually afraid that he’ll reject me and block me out of his life for good. I’ve never felt so vulnerable about romance in my life. It’ll be alright though, I have a genius plan. The plan is to continue bottling up my emotions until my heart decides it doesn’t find Butters attractive anymore.

Any day now.

The trill of the bell sounds throughout the school. My daily nap at my desk is cut short, alerting me that it is, in fact, the final hour of school. I lift my head off my desk, wiping the drool from my mouth and cheek with my sleeve. I scan the room lazily watching people file into the classroom. My eyes immediately gravitate to the blond of my dreams that is walking across the classroom. Butters must notice the attention I am giving him because he gives me a bright smile and a wave as he makes his way to the desk in front of mine.

“Hi there, Ken!”

God, he’s a literal angel. I can feel my face heating up. When I look at him, there is an aura of light and warmth surrounding him. I forget to answer him for a moment, lost in my thoughts. I manage to snap out of it and make an effort to come off as a competent human being.

“Hey, dude.”

Butters’s smile disappears and is replaced with a look of mild worry. I must look so stupid right now. I smile at him in hopes that he won’t pry… to no avail.

“Is something troubling you?”

Coming closer to me, Butters rests his hand on my back and a chill passes through my body. My skin purses, quickly covering itself in goosebumps. It takes all my willpower not to perk up in my seat and lean into his touch.

“Don’t worry about me, Butters, I, uh, just woke up. So my mind is still trying to register everything around me.”

A weak laugh escapes my lips as I pull on my right ear, unconsciously, for comfort. Luckily, the blond’s face returns to its normal state of happiness, signaling that he fell for my excuse. I feel like such a jackass around him. Thank God he seems oblivious.

“Oh, you are always so sleepy before this class.” Butters chuckles and settles into his seat.

The teacher gets up from her swivel chair to begin the lesson of the day. That’s my cue to tune out. I pull my slightly torn black notebook from my backpack. It has some soda and Gatorade stains on the pages, but I don’t care about how it looks. It’s what is on the inside that counts. I open the notebook to the last page I wrote on. The page is filled with little doodles of Butters and myself holding hands and hugging. I smile to myself as I flip to a blank page and begin doodling. No, I’m not obsessed with him. Class is boring and thinking about Butters makes me happy. Besides, I have no other way to let my feelings out, other than jacking it, but I’m not about to do that in class. Exhibitionism is only fun when you are doing it with someone else.

Anyway, this notebook is for my eyes and my eyes only. If Butters were ever to see what I scribble on these pages he would think I’m a creepy stalker. He’d probably assume that I obsessively watch his every move, collect his hair or even steal his belongings, which I do not. In other words, he would never talk to me again and our friendship would be ruined.

Some time passes when I notice the noises of people shuffling desks around and switching seats. I make eye contact with Cartman. He makes a waving motion with his arm to call me over to him, so I close my notebook on the desk and make my way over.

“What’s going on guys?” I venture as I find Kyle and Stan have also been summoned by Cartman.

Kyle scooches his desk noisily across the tile floor into position next to Cartman’s, he huffs and sits down.

“We are starting a group project.”

“Don’t worry Kenny, this project seems pretty easy,” Stan reassures while he situates a desk to face Kyle and Cartman.

Kyle gives me an annoyed look as he crosses his arms and turns his attention to Cartman. Time for the regularly scheduled banter session. I narrow my eyes at Kyle. I can’t tell if he’s upset that I wasn’t paying attention in class again or if he’s just gearing up to unleash his frustrations unto Cartman. I smile to myself while I find a chair and pull it up to the end of Cartman’s desk. What would Kyle do without Cartman? I rest my elbow on the desk and lean onto my hand, directing my gaze onto the cacophonous conversation, if you can even call it that, happening between Cartman and Kyle.

“Well excuse me, Kahl, for thinking that veganism releases a hormone that causes homosexuality!” Cartman barked.

Kyle scoffed in irritation, “I- You- You are such a dumb fucking fatass! I don’t even understand where your thought process is that’s how nonexistent it is!”

Cartman and Kyle’s faces are incredibly close together, noses just barely touching. Cartman has a pointed finger prodding Kyle’s chest. The tension between them is so suffocatingly sexual, I don’t know how they haven’t given in yet. I know I would have. Kyle continues to assert himself, but I’ve stopped caring at this point. This happens too often to deserve my full attention. In fact, the whole class is in agreement as they are going about their business as usual.

I turn in my chair and look around the room. I notice Stan gazing over at Wendy, who stands in front of her group at the cluster of desks by the window. She is looking off into the distance, or maybe at something outside, with a poised, stoic look plastered on her face. Her group looks to be drinking up every word that passes through her pink lips. I guess that means she’s saying something smart, what do I know?

Adjacent to Wendy’s tribe of kiss-asses, I spot Butters and Scott Malkinson working together. Butters is facing somewhat away from me, so I can only see his side profile. His eyes seem to smile over at Scott as his lips move, they look so soft. His pale neck just barely shows itself under his light blue turtleneck sweater. I long to gently draw down the fabric and run my finger along the shape of his neck. I find my eyes making their way down his sitting figure along his arm to his hand. The delicate and thin fingers lay relaxed on a black notebook that looks like it has been through some shit. In the instant, my mind registers that Butters is at my desk and the notebook that Butters is in contact with hides my embarrassing sentiments. I feel sick to my stomach.

My notebook.

My secret is, literally, at the hands of the one person it should never come close to. I swallow hard, this can’t be happening. Has he opened it yet? No, he would have said something, right? I manage to pull my eyes away from Butters and find myself attempting to take some deep breaths.

Cartman nudges me with his shoulder and teases, “Are you having a stroke or something over here?”

Cartman and I always joke around with each other to the point that I consider myself an expert at decoding his lingo. And let’s just say he really does have a heart under all that lard. I flash him a smile and stick out my tongue.

“Yeah, I just saw your mom getting fucked by the lunch lady outside the window.”

“Ay! You did not! Don’t talk about my mom like that!” Cartman fumed.

I laughed, but my laughter was quickly snuffed when my mind wandered back to the newly found knowledge that Butters has my notebook. I stare hard at the desk. Knowing Butters, he probably won’t open the notebook, so it’ll be a breeze to grab it once the class is over. The crisis will be averted. I lean back in my chair, a feeling of satisfaction washes over me. Damn, I was really starting to freak out there. I should listen to my gut more often.

Everything is going to work out.

Class drones on. Stan, Kyle, Cartman and I actually make some progress on our project. The ever-so-familiar cry of the bell sounds throughout the classroom, immediately followed by the manic tones of students rushing to head home for the day. I stand up and turn to face my desk, Butters is not there. In fact, the desk is completely empty. I can feel my heartbeat quicken and my hands become clammy. I shove past a mass of students packing up to get to my desk. I touch its wooden face, registering that my notebook is not there. Butters has my notebook, my secret. I look up and feverishly scan the classroom for any sign of Butters and his pink Hello Kitty backpack.

No. No. No. I can’t let him see. I can’t let him know how I feel. He’ll never talk to me again. He’ll hate me forever. I must keep looking, I’ll find him and get it back, no big deal. My eyes catch a glimpse of Butters leaving the classroom. He forgot to zip his backpack all the way, I can see the torn edge of my black notebook hiding within Hello Kitty’s polyester head. I feel like crying. This can’t be happening. Adrenaline overwhelms my body as I run after Butters. I force myself through the flock of students and make my way out into the hallway. Down the hall, Butters is turning the corner. Shit. How is he so fast? I gear up to barrel after him when I feel someone grab my arm.

“Kenny, the guys and I are heading to Cartman’s house. I guess his mom is trying this new online cooking class and wants us to taste test. Are you coming?”

Stan smiles at me. He looks happy about this news and I don’t blame him. But for once in my life, I’m not hungry. All I can think about is Butters going home and reading my notebook. He’ll see all the dumb drawings I made of us and the little drabbles about how I feel towards him. He’ll probably laugh, or maybe retch at the thought that I’m head over heels for him.

“Dude? Are you okay? Geez, did you eat anything today? Come on, let’s get to Cartman’s before you pass out or something.”

Stan grabs my arm and guides me out of the school, heading towards Cartman’s house. I’m so distracted I had forgotten to answer Stan. At least he isn’t asking any more questions.

“Food sounds good,” I concede.

Damn it. I need to find Butters.

“Oh my God, you guys, I’m so pumped! My mom’s food is going to be tits!” Cartman announces as he trots through the snow next to me.

Kyle smiles warmly at Cartman who is happily dancing down the snowy path, “Your mom has always been a great cook, I’m pretty excited too.”

“Me too! Beats my usual microwave mac-n-cheese after school,” Stan exclaims.

At this point Stan is still guiding me, I guess I must look pretty bad if he feels the need to help me walk. I’ll just go along with it, I need an excuse for my behavior earlier anyways. I sigh, I can’t turn down an invitation to eat home-cooked meals prepared by Ms. Cartman, and I guess I don’t really have a choice at this point. Plus, I’ll have some time to come up with a game plan to get my notebook back before Butters even thinks of reading it… hopefully.

“I bet you’re ecstatic, Kinny because you’re poor!” Cartman laughs giving my arm a punch.

I snicker and punch his arm back, “Duh, fatso!”

Once we get to Cartman's house, I notice Scott is at Butter's doorstep. The door opens and Butters invites Scott inside. It's a little early to be working on the project, I mean we were just in that class. Butters isn't super on top of school work in general anyway. Why is he over? I know they are friends and all but I didn't think they would hang out together, alone. I step inside Cartman's house following behind Stan. My thoughts are temporarily subdued as my nostrils are greeted with the sweet aroma of home cooking.


	2. Please be a Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott is a protective friend. No one is on the same page.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything that happens in this story happens so Kenny learns a lesson. :)  
> After the first part of this chapter, it's all Kenny and Butters interaction from there on out!

“Hello, boys! Please come in! I have so much for you all to eat!” 

Ms. Cartman chirps as she waltzes out of the kitchen holding a large bowl filled with fancy looking orzo pasta. 

Cartman can’t contain his enthusiasm, he sprints into the kitchen. I think this is the quickest he has ever moved. Cartman is practically bouncing off the walls. He slams open a drawer, the contents clang together as he quickly snatches a fork from the now messy drawer. Cartman holds the silverware above his head like he is performing some sort of religious ceremony. I can’t help but laugh at him. 

“Gimme gimme gimme!” Staring down his mother, Cartman grips his fork waving it at his mother in impatience.

Ms. Cartman smiles but her irritation is clear, “Eric, you are eighteen years old, you shouldn’t act so childishly. I love you, but you’re going to have to wait till after our guests get their food before you can eat anything, young man.”

“But maam! I’m starving!” Cartman holds his stomach and contorts his face in an effort to imitate pain.

Ms. Cartman rolls her eyes and turns her attention to the rest of us. She ushers us to sit at the table and we are presented with a full table of pasta, quiche, roasted vegetables and a few other dishes I’ve never seen before. I’d be fat too if I lived with this woman. 

We eat to our hearts’ content, the food tastes as good as it looks. Once I clear my plate, I lean back in the chair, taking in the wonderful feeling of a full stomach and gaze out the window. 

The Stotch house stands not too far away, I can see a section of their kitchen through their window across the snowy yard between the houses. 

Suddenly, Butters comes into view in his kitchen followed by Scott. Butters grabs oven mitts from a drawer and disappears out of eyeshot. Scott leans up on the window as he watches Butters who, I can only imagine, is bending over to get something out of the oven. What I would give to switch places with Scott right now.

I grimace as I feel my body heat up in jealousy. Lucky asshole. 

“You’ve outdone yourself, ma’am. Thank you for the food.”

Kyle stands from the table and takes his plate to the sink. But Ms. Cartman is quick to take the dish from him,

“There’s no need for you to clean anything, hon. Eric would be so upset. He tells me all about how smart you are and how hard you work. I don’t want him worrying over you more than he already does.”

She beams, going around the table taking everyone’s dishes then begins to clean them in the sink. 

A smirk creeps onto my face as I try to hold back my laughter. Stan covers his mouth with his hand in astonishment. Stan looks over at me and we can’t help but let a few muffled laughs escape. 

Cartman is flabbergasted and as red as a tomato. His mouth hangs open, his eyes are wide and shifting incessantly around the room, from Kyle to his mother to Stan and I. He’s looking for a way out of this.

Kyle pauses in confusion, relaying the words Cartman’s mother has said over again in his head.

“Ah… That’s uh thoughtful of him,” he croaks out, searching for every word. Kyle comes off as monotone and doubtful, like what she said was just a trick, a test. We were all kind of taken off guard by that comment, so I don’t blame him for tripping over his words.

Kyle makes eye contact with Cartman for a moment then hurries over to grab his backpack that’s lying next to his seat without another glance at him. 

Cartman is completely frozen, watching the scene in horror. My heart wrenches, I can’t help but feel bad for him now. I never want to know how he must feel, sitting there helpless, with his heart dangling weakly on a thread. 

Struggling to keep from falling.

A shiver runs down my spine just thinking of my emotions being out in the open for anyone to trample on. My mind wanders. 

A disturbed Butters cultivates himself into my imagination. He hands my notebook to me, holding it with an outstretched arm to keep it as far away from his face as he can. As if the notebook reaks of putrid garbage. 

I’ve tried so hard to get rid of the garbage, but it always sticks around. I hate the smell so I bury it deep in the ground. But I’ve been lazy, I didn’t dig deep enough and now he’s found my landfill. 

“Don’t talk to me ever again!” The imaginary Butters yells before quickly running off to avoid the noxious gas that seeps from my notebook.

Some people love sharing their feelings, I guess their garbage smells nice to them.

“I-I should probably get going. I didn’t tell my mom I was coming over here after school. I don’t want her to freak out,” as quickly and politely as he can, Kyle exits the house and hastily thanks Ms. Cartman for the meal again before shutting the door behind him.

“What the actual fuck, Maam, that’s not what I meant! I said to hint, you asshole! Not- not that.” Eric slams his hands onto the table, the sound breaking my trance.

My eyes widen as reality rams into me like that semi-truck did last Tuesday. Butters still has my notebook and he’s going to hate me forever if I don’t do something. I stand up quickly, unsure of what I’m going to do.

“I know you’re upset now sweetums, but I promise I did you a favor.” Ms. Cartman wipes down a dish, speaking in a calming tone, “you never know what will come of something if you don’t put it out there.”

I feel my whole body cringe at her words. That’s what you think. 

Stan fidgets in his chair for a moment then stands, “thanks for the food, see you guys at school tomorrow.” He smiles at me, looking emotionally exhausted as he leaves the house. Stan isn’t keen on dealing with Cartman’s problems, he’s too dramatic for Stan to handle. 

Cartman is still lecturing his mom, so they’re distracted enough to not drag me into their conversation. Now’s my chance to save my relationship with Butters. 

I slip out the backdoor, giving a ‘thank you for the meal’ before running across the snowy lawn to the side of the Stotch house.

I lean my back onto the brick and look up at the cloud-covered sky. Alright, what’s the plan? I could ring the doorbell and ask for it back. But then Butters would know that I saw him take my notebook, that I look at him in class. He’d be weirded out. 

The smart thing to do is break into his room and snatch my notebook before he notices I’m there. No confrontation, no problems. I nod to myself in assurance.

Turning to face the side of the house, I find my way around to the back where the window to Butters’s room sits a floor above my head. I climb the wall of the house using the drain pipe for leverage. 

I grit my teeth, as I pull myself up, grabbing onto the windowsill of Butters’s window. This was so much easier to do back in elementary school. I manage to find my footing and hoist my body onto the sill. There is just enough room for my ass, thankfully, so I sit. I catch my breath and twist my upper body to peer into the room through the gap between the off-white curtains.

Butters sits on his bed in the far corner of the room and Scott sits on the desk chair, facing towards the window I happen to be looking through. I jerk my head out of sight for a moment then hesitantly peak out just enough to see inside. Hopefully, Scott doesn’t notice me here, I don’t have a good excuse on hand right now.

My impatience grows as I watch their mouths move for a couple of minutes. I groan under my breath. Damn it, can they leave his room already? How long do they have to keep talking? I rap my head on the window in annoyance, the window replies with a thud. 

I snap my head up and away from the window, almost losing my balance on the windowsill. Damn it, there is no way they didn’t hear that! I feel my heart racing in my chest as I frantically search for a means of escape. There isn’t enough time to climb back down.

A tree branch stands outstretched towards me, it’s kinda far away, but I have no time to worry about that. They could open the window and find me any second now! 

I stand up shakily on the windowsill, careful not to lose my balance and hurtle myself over to the tree. I manage to grab onto the branch, as I swing there I chuckle. Wow, I thought for sure the branch would--

Crack 

I am jolted down lower in the air. Startled, I look up to find the branch struggling to hold itself to the trunk. I clench my teeth in distress. With one hand, I try to reach for another branch in hopes of making it down the one-story drop without breaking a bone. 

The squeaking sound of plastic on plastic calls my attention to the window. Butters pulls it open and angles his upper body slightly out the window. He makes eye contact with me.

“Kenny, what are you doing?”

Butters speaks frantically as the branch gives out and I plummet to the ground. 

I wake up to a worm’s eye view of a tree missing quite a few limbs and a teary-eyed Butters.

“You’re awake! Ha… I thought you were dead for a second there. You hit your back pretty hard when you fell.”

Butters blinks away his tears and smiles softly. He cups my face in his hand, his warmth radiating onto my cheek. If this is a dream, don’t ever wake me up. It takes every muscle in my body to keep from breaking into a huge smile. 

My happy moment is tarnished when I see Scott standing over Butters’s shoulder. His arms are crossed and he’s glaring at me. 

What the hell did I ever do to him? I just fell out of a tree here, bro. My attention is directed back to Butters when I feel his thumb rub my cheek gingerly.

“How do you feel? I can help you up if you need it.”

Butters removes his hand from my face and I frown a bit at the absence of his warmth. He stands and holds his hand out to me. I reach for him when a throbbing pain shoots through my back. I wince and retract my hand. 

Butters hastily wraps his arms around me and lifts me into a standing position as slowly as possible as to not cause any further pain. 

“Oh geez, Ken. Don’t push yourself too hard.” 

He slowly releases me from his embrace but keeps his hands on my shoulders to keep me steady. I meet his worry-filled eyes and I can’t help but frown. 

“I’m okay, Butters. I think I just sliced up my back, it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

To be honest, I think I actually have some twigs stuck in my back. Walking home is going to be a bitch, but I can’t have Butters wasting his time worrying about me. 

Butters scans my body up and down, searching for any indications that I’m lying.

“Well, I’m glad you’re feelin’ okay and all.”

He looks down at the ground as he removes his hands from my shoulders. He seems… sad? 

“I’m sorry that you’ve injured yourself, but why are you here? Come to see the look on his face when he found the little prank that you and Cartman thought would be so hilarious.”

Scott waves his hands in the air dramatically to emphasize his irritation. 

“What are you talking about?”

I look to Butters for an answer, he looks back at me for a moment and I catch a sadness, a pain in his eyes before he continues to look at the ground. 

“D-don’t bother, Scott. I’m used to the teasing and pranks from Cartman at least. You fooled me for a second there, Ken.” 

Butters looks up at me again, he sounds heart-broken but somehow forces a half-smile. I can’t stand to see him like this. To make matters worse, the pain in my back is only growing from standing here.

“I don’t understand. I haven’t played a prank on you in years, I only agree to do that stuff when I’m tricking Cartman or someone I hate.”

Scott scoffs, “You know full well what you did, and I won’t let you treat my friend like garbage!” 

Scott moves his arm in front of Butters to shelter him from me as he scowls in my direction. I feel like a deer in headlights, did I upset him by falling out of his tree? Do they think I did that on purpose? I groan and feel my face with my gloved hands. This is idiotic, I’m in too much pain for this right now. 

“Dude, I seriously have no idea what I did. I would never do something to hurt you, Butters. You’re my… one of my best friends.”

I pull on my ear and look away, as my torso twists I wince in pain. 

Butters opens his mouth to speak, but Scott is quick to respond,

“I know for a fact that that stupid prank notebook we found in Butters’s backpack is yours. I’ve seen you with it before. You’re the only one who could have put it there. If not you then Cartman.”

“Huh?” 

My breathing quickens and blood rushes to my face.

Notebook?


End file.
